


Chevner's Tale

by JackieSBlake7



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 06:08:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7255594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackieSBlake7/pseuds/JackieSBlake7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Only Tarrant survives the events on Gauda Prime</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chevner's Tale

**Author's Note:**

> Previously published on a website that has now disappeared

It had been hard for Tarrant to play dead, given his injuries, when the troopers were clearing out the base – they had, from what he gathered, decided to make use of what was available rather than camp out. Eventually he was alone, apart from the bodies in the cold and dark of a Gauda Prime night.

What should he do now? Apart from not dying of his injuries or being captured by the incoming Federation forces?  
He managed to get up *somehow* and start moving: the next few hours – or was it longer? – were a blur which he did not wish to recall at any future time… if he survived. Eventually he collapsed, feeling cheated. He had expected to die in the Intergalactic War, or in a crash like the Scorpio’s, or, against all the luck, live to a great age, not like this… At least hypothermia and exposure would be a painless death. Or so Vila had said, after reading various medical books so he could back up his hypochondria – a hobby which, had, on occasion been useful. Tarrant hoped that Vila realised that they had been friends regardless of some of the things that had been said.

Tarrant woke to find himself in a hut with another.  
‘You’re awake,’ a man’s voice said. Tarrant looked at him: someone neither young nor old – as Vila had been, but dark haired, and taller. He managed to conceal his sadness at his friends’ deaths.  
‘Yes… Where am I?’  
‘Safe – for now. I won’t cause you any harm.’  
Tarrant would have to trust this man for now. This place was better than the open on Gauda Prime – and he would be grateful for whatever small respite he was given now, even if he was turned in later.  
‘Thank you for saving me… anything I can do in return… Anything reasonable.’ Tarrant remembered to add. There were enough tales around to add the caution.  
‘I see we’ve read the same stories,’ the man replied with a smile – so, hopefully, playing by the rules… for now at least. He continued. ‘We’ll think of something. You can start by telling me who you are and how you got here.’  
Tarrant recalled Avon’s by-name when they had first met. ‘My name is Chevner.’ He felt a sudden guilt: *could* he have done anything different – so his friends might have survived?  
‘I am Nareen. What happened Chevner?’ The name might be equally fake. Here on Gauda Prime nothing was certain.  
‘The ship I was on crashed. I am the only survivor.’ The statement was true as far as it went. Tarrant had no idea where Orac was – Avon had not had it with him during the encounter in Blake’s base, and there was no obvious way of locating the computer. Perhaps if he had had a teleport bracelet he might have had a chance of communicating.  
‘I am sorry. What are, or were, your plans?’  
Tarrant could almost like this man for his directness. There might be a chance of a future.  
‘I haven’t got any… beyond now getting off this wretched planet.’ Tarrant blushed: his words had gone ahead of his brain, again. ‘Now that the Federation are likely to take over and interfere with everything and cause general damage,’ he added by way of an explanation.  
Nareen nodded to himself. ‘There are many who would share your opinion.’ He smiled. ‘I myself for one. I repair things – some of them quite complicated, and I know when not to ask questions as to where the equipment came from. What can you offer?’  
Tarrant considered his words. Nareen had saved his life – but there was no knowing what his intentions were – but what other options were available? ‘I have been to a few planets, heard about others.’ Suitably vague. ‘I will repay you for your help with what information I can should you wish to settle elsewhere.’  
Nareen considered the offer. ‘You offer what you know you can give, not untold riches… I accept. You are strong – when you have recovered you will help me here before we leave.’  
Tarrant had worked his passage before, and he had no other option now. He quashed the memory of the gibe Vila would have made. He could mourn his friends when he had the opportunity.

****

They left Nareen’s property. There were no traces of who had been there.  
Tarrant had, mostly, recovered from his injuries. The pain of losing his friends was beginning to fade. He was alive, and had a future to consider: they would not have wanted him to live in the past – and would have done as he had now had they survived. Nareen had not asked any further questions on the subject, and had implied losses of his own.  
The Federation were consolidating their base on Gauda Prime, rather than extending their authority to the lowest levels – and those locals still in authority were prepared to let troublemakers and undesirables “go elsewhere” of their own accord rather than stop them. Tarrant was truly grateful for this: he was a deserter, a wanted rebel, and would suffer the consequences if found. He was helping Nareen to escape the unintended consequences of his actions if discovered. Absence of knowledge would not mean absence of effect.

They made their way to the planet’s nearest regional spaceport – it could handle all of six ships. They managed to find a berth on a Tratinian ship – the captain muttered something about not making a habit of dealing with waifs and strays.  
‘Wonder what he meant,’ Nareen asked as they settled in. Tarrant’s piloting and Nareen’s skills with equipment would pay their way to the next planet.  
‘I’m sure he will tell us – even if we don’t ask,’ Tarrant replied. There would be worse fates than spending time on this ship – it was about as comfortable as the Scorpio had been, and he had done similar tramp-ship work in the past. No point in hankering after the Liberator – nothing would ever replace it. There had been another once – so he had been told: there might be more, but no-one had ever heard of them. ‘After a while on these ships all stories have been told to everybody, so somebody new’s welcome. And when they’ve gone you keep their stories.’  
‘Same on GP,’ Nareen replied. ‘I would not have left GP so quickly and easily without your knowledge.’  
‘And I wouldn’t have got to this ship without you,’ Tarrant said.  
‘We’re evens then,’ Nareen said with a smile.  
Tarrant’s smile in reply felt only slightly phoney. ‘We will continue working together till we find something better – and meet again when it is mutually most inconvenient.’   
‘Always the way,’ Nareen acknowledged. ‘We’ll agree upon something.’  
Tarrant realised he was looking forward to whatever they agreed. By chance he had met someone who could be a working partner – for a while at least. Having worked with Avon and the others he had decided he enjoyed working in a team… who else would he bring in, given the choice, and the opportunity to select?  
‘How many other ships’ captains’ll want to buy our skills do you think?’  
‘So long as we spend some time planetside.’  
Tarrant nodded, accepting the arrangement they were making. He had come to enjoy living on Xenon, and had even come to understand Dayna’s enthusiasm for exploring the surrounding area. ‘Until we decide upon a better plan then.’

****

Tarrant sat in his cabin, barely aware of the tears on his face, glad he had been able to remain dry eyed in company.  
The Trantanian captain had told his story about the “waifs and strays” – and accepted Tarrant’s explanation of knowing someone called Kline who had wished to go to Freedom City.  
He had not expected to be confronted with an incident connected to the Liberator so soon. Cally had told him about the Liberator’s journey to Freedom City, and the encounter with Travis and Dochelli there. The group had not yet run out of histories to tell each other before they came to Gauda Prime.  
He was being forced to think about his future intentions sooner than he had expected, possibly before he was quite ready to do so. But, rather do so now than looking back several years hence, and realising he had returned to the life he had before joining the Liberator, his time with that ship’s group little more than an almost forgotten interlude, and no plans or options for achieving anything more should he want to do so.  
Tarrant realised he wanted more than the hand to mouth, one unmemorable job after another life he had had between leaving the military and joining the Liberator – might have come to that conclusion had his path taken him in a different direction after the War. What had Vila said once – the reason he did not leave the group was he knew he would return to the life he had had before being sent to Cygnus Alpha, and the expectation if he survived of another prison planet at best.  
Perhaps, Tarrant thought, he could find some of the people who had known those he had worked with… but what would he say to the unknown Dochelli if found and the others? Would it be better to leave Avon and the others as living in some never-where, to challenge and interest others who might achieve their goal? His sympathies were with the rebels – or those who merely wished to make the Federation more friendly towards those it ruled.  
At least, as Avon would have said, he had defined a goal – now to do something about it.

****

What *was* odd, Tarrant thought as the days passed, was that there was no mention of what had happened on Gauda Prime in the newscasts – the death of some of the Federation’s most celebrated rebels. Or, perhaps, it was not so surprising. A “report on a dead bounty hunter claiming to be the rebel Blake” could well disappear within the administrative structure until long after it made any sense to chase up what had happened. Nobody would think to check the records, if any existed, of the people in the base without prompting – they would, given what little he had been told at the time, probably, have been a jumble of the long term and those passing through.  
So what *would* he do now, apart from working his passage?  
Asking his fellow crew members provided some ideas – they all had their own ambitions and long term plans, and did not think the question strange. A couple even welcomed the opportunity to clarify their own intentions.

By the time Tarrant and Nareen left the Trantinian’s ship, Tarrant had come to a decision. He would remain Chevner, who was not associated with the Liberator group, and cooperate with rebel groups: if he was recognised he would say that the group had been dispersed after an “incident” had caused their ship to crash. Otherwise he might occasionally mention having met or known them – there were many others who had done so, from what he knew and the others had said. What had actually happened on Gauda Prime could vanish into the unknown. He owed it to the others to help the rebels, somehow, and to develop their plans.  
Now – he would discuss with Nareen what he had in mind, and what, if any, companions they would require. Working together was becoming a long term option – and he was as willing to cooperate with the rebels and independents as Tarrant was.

****

Del Chevner’s team of specialists was well known on the margins of the Federation, which was gradually losing some of its more unpleasant characteristics. Chevner himself was a popular figure among the rebels whom he associated with, though somewhat vague about his background – not uncommon in the circles among which he moved. He sometimes admitted that he had, somehow and in ill-defined contexts, met some of the most celebrated rebels of their time, Blake’s and Avon’s groups – the names varied on occasion, and he never confirmed or denied the details. Rumours of what had happened to them persisted but were never resolved, despite the activities of an obscure Commissioner, by the name of Sleer who was chiefly known for attempting to locate them – and who was not advancing in her career. Other rebels were becoming prominent, as might have happened anyway – and Avon was not the only one to have thought of uniting the Federation’s opponents. Chevner promoted some of the other ideas the sometime group had discussed – the best way, he had privately decided, of maintaining their legacy.  
He did have two habits others found strange. Occasionally there were messages, possibly connected with the name Orac, which were pursued, whatever else Chevner had been doing at the time. Also, whenever he had the opportunity Chevner would go to the planet Gauda Prime and search – for what nobody was quite certain, but which was never revealed to others. It might have been a place, or an object: he said, once, that he was looking for something that would benefit the rebellion, but it was not a treasure in the conventional sense.  
He never found what he was looking for.


End file.
